The Best Pair of Breasts in the Universe
by Your Worshipfulness
Summary: Rose and the Doctor are trapped on an alien planet.  Enforced normality quickly wears thin and Rose is willing to do just about anything to get the money for escape, including entering a very unusual sort of contest with interesting results. Ten/Rose


**The Best Pair of Breasts in the Universe**

I make no money from Doctor Who; I do this purely for intrinsic value. If anyone is actually reading the author's note, I'd love some feedback on the ending. It doesn't seem particularly strong to me, but I may be being over-critical.

"Look, the thing is, we can't get back to the Tardis unless we pay the toll and the destruction of property fine, and since we don't have any more money and your screwdriver's drained, there's only one thing for it—"

"But Rooooose," the Doctor said, the whine in his voice oddly adorable. "Jobs? I mean, honestly? Come on, do you really see me as…as…as a farmer or a baker or a candlestick maker!"

"Or a mechanic, or an engineer, or, God, I dunno, a _doctor_?" Rose suggested sardonically.

He looked a bit nonplussed at this, "I don't just _not_ do domestic, Rose, I _cannot_ do domestic. Time Lords have had it bred out of us."

"Yeah, well if you enjoy food, shelter, and indoor plumbing, you're gonna try. 'Sides, it'll only be for a few weeks; it won't kill ya." She grinned cheekily at him, tongue poking out, "And if it does, you'll regenerate again, and maybe the next body'll be more cooperative."

"You're a hard woman, Rose Tyler."

She shrugged, fatalistically. "Now here, I've written down some advertisements I saw—the ones circled might do, but the ones with the stars are the ones I think you'd actually like. Now, I'm gonna go check up on some of these rooms for rent."

"Wait, Rose—what are you gonna do?"

Her brow furrowed. "I've just told you—"

He shook his head irritably. "No, I mean, for work. Are you back in a shop?"

Rose's eyes shifted, a slightly evasive expression creeping over her features. "Not exactly a shop, more of a pub."

"You're serving drinks to spacers?" he said incredulously.

Rose's eyes narrowed. "Never you mind—point is if I do well here, we'll be off this planet in a week."

The Doctor stared at her as though she'd lost her mind. "Rose, we owe 16,000 frauns—almost 4,000£."

"Doctor," she said breezily, a slow, almost seductive smile on her face, "trust me."

~~~~Line Break Here

* * *

~~~~~

He wasn't sure how he was going to tell her he'd been sacked. Oh, he'd been over several scenarios in his mind—at first he was going to have her play a guessing game, or maybe try complimenting her hair and just sort of slip it in there when she was distracted. Then he was thinking of leaving a note, but his last note hadn't gone over so well…perhaps if he didn't tape this one to her forehead? Finally he'd considered writing it on something edible, preferably chocolate, but since he couldn't cook and had no money to buy anything, that idea had to be discarded too. As a result of all this planning he'd made it to the Kroth'n Krove a bit in advance of actually having worked out what he was going to say.

"Doctor—what are you doing here? " a breathless, and none-to-happy Rose cried the moment she saw him. Which was a bit odd, actually—the place was packed, how had she spotted him? He went ahead and put that question out there, honestly confused.

"Oh, I always know when you're about," she said absently. "Like two holes boring in the back of my head, you are." She began to maneuver him back towards the door.

"Oh, um, Rose, listen, I need to tell you something—"

"Oh, not now, look can't we talk when I'm off? I'll meet you at the flat straight after," she promised hastily. Then she stopped trying to usher him out and shot him an incisive look, straight out of a professional interrogator's handbook, "Anyway, shouldn't you be at work right now?"

He averted his eyes—honestly, the ceiling of this place could do with a good micro-scrubbing. "Ah, well, actually, thing is, Rose, you've rather hit the nail on the head." He smiled charmingly at her suspicious stare in a desperate attempt at deflection. "Um…you know, it was sort of funny, if you think about it, I mean, funny odd not funny inappropriate laughter and such; but, anyway, you'll never guess." She didn't look keen to try; he soldiered on admirably. "So, I was on my way to work and a Krillitane jumped me—not the bat ones though, this one had gorilla hands—anyway, I fought him off with a bit of pepper and an aerosol. Only, I accidentally sprayed a Derigellian too, and she claimed I'd impugned her honor, so I had to duel then and there, with only my wits and the bits of cutlery from the café. And if I do say so, made quite a showing, though Derigellians are notoriously clumsy with a fork, so perhaps not much to brag about. Then, when I refused to finish her off—and how could I when she was clearly carrying at least twenty eggs—I had to outrun all three of her mates through downtown traffic and nearly got crushed by a garbage transport. By the time I'd snuck off and confused my trail with some antiperspirants, I was three hours late for work."

Rose rolled her eyes. "So you're sacked, then?"

The Doctor pursed his lips. "…yes."

"Okay, well you tried; two days, not a bad record. Look, just meet me at the flat, and we'll get it sorted tomorrow."

The Doctor blinked. "You're not mad?"

Rose smiled. "I'm not mad." She propelled him out the door.

He peeked back in. "You're sure? 'Cause it's well and truly lost. I may have accidentally blown up one of their space hoppers as well; there's no going back after that."

"It's fine, Doctor. I'll see you later," Rose said amiably.

"Okay, well, I'll just…be in the flat then."

"Yes, bye!"

"Right."

He headed back towards their new super-cheap, but ultra-efficient flat, still a bit bemused. As incredible as it seemed, Rose was not upset with him. It was hard for him to wrap his head around it—and as heads went, his was abnormally roomy. He was even a little irritated with himself, and yet Rose was fine. Really, fine. Totally fine.

Hang on.

Maybe this was that kind of fine that females said they were right before they blew up on you. Sure, Rose was normally a good sort who didn't fall in with girly stuff like asking him if she looked fat in her dramkini or suggesting he might like the last chip when really she wanted it. Still, one couldn't be too careful. And she had been rushing him out of the pub, maybe because if he hadn't left right then, she was going to make a scene and lose her job, too! Well, no way was he going to wait at the flat to get bawled out and maybe a Tyler slap in the bargain. No, they were going to have it out here and now, properly, with none of this dreadful anticipation to sweeten the deal.

Eyes lit with steely determination, the Doctor reversed direction and headed back to the Kroth'n Krove. It had been barely fifteen minutes, but it seemed like the foot traffic had increased and was all headed the same way. Irritated, the Doctor shuffled along, but by the time he'd gotten to the doors, the room was nearly completely packed. Five seconds later, he found out why.

A opalescent-green Mkro girl, face full of lovely tentacles, was on the bar wearing blue leather pants and a white top that had clearly just been soaked. Her small breasts jutted out and the crowd was clapping enthusiastically. He stepped forward and was promptly sandwiched between two eager-looking Shuriqoi. Where was Rose?

Then he spotted her, climbing on top the bar as the Mkro girl stepped down to join a line of five other soaked young women. Was Rose going to announce the end of the contest? She grinned at the rabble—maybe she was going to tell them about a drink special? A bucket of water was ceremonially upended over her head. Her white t-shirt went abruptly transparent and plastered itself against her curves. A lightbulb went off in his head, and apparently blew a fuse, because his brain stopped working at that point.

He had always known objectively that Rose's breasts were magnificent, but there was something about watching water cascade over gently rounded c-cups before a crowd of awed onlookers that really brought it home for him. Around him the screaming, clapping pub crowd faded to a dull buzz and the blood began rushing through his ears. His eyes were glued to Rose as she did a brief catwalk on the bar—to ear-piercing whistles—and joined the other girls. He watched as three judges tallied electronic score cards and listened as the entire pub began to chant Rose's name. He saw them present her with a credit stick and got to see the exact moment when she realized he was there.

Her eyes widened with something like alarm; her arms reflexively crossed in front of her chest. He wasn't sure what she read in his face, truthfully he expected his jaw to be slack, but a slight twinge told him it was actually locked hard enough to make his teeth ache. Still, she made no protest when he threw his coat around her, grabbed her wrist, and maneuvered her through the crowd quickly and with no little casual brutality against those who didn't move fast enough.

He didn't remember much of their walk to the flat—only that it seemed to go much faster than usual and that she was out of breath by the time the door whooshed shut behind them and deadlocked. She clutched the coat closed around her, looking a little nervous and worrying her bottom lip.

"Doctor?" she asked, sounding a bit worried. "You're muttering."

Was he? He hardly noticed; maybe that was because—"What the hell did you think you were doing?"

Her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed as she shifted from worried to angry. "I was getting us the money to get off this rock."

"By stripping down for the locals? My god Rose, couldn't you stand being trapped here for a few weeks? I mean, it's not the Ritz, but it's not exactly hell on Earth, either."

"Oh, you're the one whining for three straight days how you hated working and the flat's too small to breathe in, and you can't concentrate without the vortex vibrations—well I've won enough money tonight to get us back home, and you're acting like I've cheated on you."

"I'm acting like you've bought our trip home by selling your body—and that's exactly what you've done!" he shouted at her.

She ripped his coat off and threw it in his face. He tried desperately to keep his attention on her, even as her still-wet top seemed to attract his eyes like a pin to an electro-magnet. "What I do with my body is my own business—you've made that abundantly clear the last three years—and if I choose to show it to the whole universe, I could, so you can bloody well bugger off!"

"No, you choose to show it to a bunch of drunks and perverts in a bar so they can maul you with their eyes and use you to get their rocks off in a public restroom! What is it, Rose? Don't I give you enough attention? What do you want from me, Rose?" His voice was rising towards the end, and he was aware that he sounded somewhat hysterical; he didn't even know where this was coming from. It was if the sight of Rose's breasts had done something to him, unhinged him, and now everything was pouring out of his mouth like a sieve.

"What do I want from you? I'm not the one who's been sending mixed signals since time began, you stupid man! It had nothing to do with you! We needed money, there was a contest; I entered it. I won. End of story. How was I to know you'd care? And anyway, it was physical, it's just my body—it didn't mean anything!"

"It means something to me! Those bastards, how dare they look at you? How dare they think of touching you with their dirty hands, those filthy—" untranslatable but furious Gallifrean poured off his tongue and he restrained himself quickly, forcing his hand not to punch the nearest wall and he turned back to face her, gripping her forearms tightly. "Never again, Rose. Never again!" He pulled her to him, plastering her wet front to his chest, and pressed their lips together.

Even through his layers, it was apparent that without his coat to cover her, she was a bit cold. He was planning on warming her up in a moment—in as much as he was in a state to be planning anything with Rose's hands raking through his hair as she plunged her tongue into his mouth.

It had been a long time—centuries. He wasn't sure he even remembered the moves anymore, but Rose was the kind of girl who really stimulated a man's memory receptors. There was a certain kind of special motivation inspired by a girl who can trace infinity symbols over one's tonsils with her tongue while simultaneously wriggling most of the way out of a wet t-shirt. Besides, foreplay pretty much evaporated when she ripped his trousers open and shoved her hand down the front.

He was pretty sure it was he who was pounding the back of his head against the wall almost rhythmically as his hips jerked forward and a chorus of moans fell from his mouth. She had locked onto his throat with lips and—Rassilon, were those her teeth? He was almost positive he was telling her things he had meant to keep from her for awhile longer—like how good it felt to be pressed up against her, how often he'd fantasized about just this situation, and how much he wanted to just rip her skirt off and force their bodies together by any means necessary.

"Then why don't you do it?" she asked breathlessly, her hand tightening in what could only be termed a delightful manner.

Right…yes, he was definitely vocalizing his thoughts then. Except, it was a rather brilliant idea, wasn't it? With a supreme act of willpower, he pulled her hand away from him, rucked her skirt up, and yanked her knickers down. Three steps and she was braced against the wall, and thank goodness for his superior strength because he couldn't wait to find a vertical space before he plunged himself into her.

It was like…Rassilon, he couldn't even think of a metaphor anymore. Hundreds of billions of years of evolution and he was reduced to an ape just by the hot, wet feel of Rose all around him. It was good, very good, possibly the best he'd ever felt, and he wanted to keep on feeling it over and over again.

"We can definitely do that," Rose told him, her voice low and sultry and perfect.

Ok, so still vocalizing then. Apparently internal monologue externalizes when faced with overwhelming physical pleasure coupled with hitherto unknown levels of emotional stimuli. His whole body was quivering, his vision had narrowed, and his thoughts were so far into overdrive that he could only concentrate on one level. It was all very primal and urgent, with instincts he didn't even know he'd still had urging him to _move_ already. Except he knew if he moved even a fraction he wasn't going to be able to stop. "Rose, I don't think I can wait for you."

Still held securely against the wall, her legs 'round his waist, she leaned forward and pressed a chaste, almost sisterly kiss on his lips. Her hand slid down between them to rub against her clitoris as she simultaneously clenched her inner muscles around him. He gasped; she grinned, "The only one we're waiting on is you, Doctor."

Had he been capable of responding at that point, he wasn't sure he could have come up with anything, and actions speak louder than words, after all. He drew back and thrust forward sharply, absorbing her quick intake of breath with a hard kiss. Then he did it again and again and again, until he was moving almost faster than he'd thought possible and Rose was making a high, keening sort of sound that made him feel rather good about himself. Then he changed the angle just slightly, and suddenly she was begging him, "Harder, Doctor, please, don't stop! Harder! Oh God, Doctor, it's so good!"

Her voice in his ear was more than he could take. His vision went white and his whole body seemed to pulse. The pleasure was indescribable, hot, dark, and almost too intense. He only wished Rose had—Oh! His spasms must have set her off because she was clenching around him, causing even more pleasure to shoot through his body. Experimentally he thrust his half-hard erection a little further into her and they both moaned simultaneously as little after-shocks ran the gamut of their bodies.

"Doctor…" Rose puffed in his ear, "that was…"

"What?" he asked, pulling back to gaze worriedly into her face. Too soon? Too much? A mistake?

"…fantastic," Rose finished.

He grinned down at her. "I was, wasn't I," he said modestly.

"Oi," Rose said, mock-indignantly, "I believe that was a team effort."

He mumbled into her neck, trying to rewrite the laws of physics in his head so he could reach her breasts with his mouth without withdrawing from her.

"Sorry, didn't catch that," Rose said, sounding amused.

He pulled back, grinning at her. "Go team!"

Ten hours and two fabulous shags later, the Doctor was creeping out of the apartment in search of sustenance. There hadn't exactly been time for eating last night. As he grabbed various and sundry items at the local store his eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the large monitor behind the credit counter. Pictures of women in various states of undress were flashing across the screen with statistics scrolling bellow them in bright neon orange. "Vote now!" the screen urged him. The Doctor stared for a long time before quietly making his purchases and heading back to Rose. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell her, but it might start something like… "Remember when you said you would flash the whole universe if you wanted…?"

She was up and half-dressed when he popped back in, which very nearly distracted him from what he'd planned to say. Luckily she spied the food and dodged his wandering hands long enough for him to remember.

"So, Rose…"

"Yes, Doctor?" she asked, licking d'klut butter off her index finger.

"Er, remember yesterday when I said 'never again?' Well—"

She interrupted him quickly. "I know, no more contests now that we're, well…" she trailed off.

"Together," he said firmly. Did that sound a little controlling? Well, no matter, she was smiling, so it was okay.

"Right, together," she echoed.

"Well, the thing is, 'never,' I mean, that's such a final sort of word. Don't they always say, 'never say never?' I was sure that was a saying, and there's probably some truth to that—often is you know, things don't become sayings without a reason—"

"Doctor?" Rose asked, looking a little confused. "'Course I'm happy that you want me to make my own decisions, but I don't really think I'd want to show off my assets in public again any time soon."

He looked a bit crestfallen, "Oh, are you sure, because I really wouldn't want you to think I was controlling you or preventing you from doing something you thought was important. I mean, you could be a legend, Rose. You'd even get a sash and a little crown."

He could tell he had lost her; she was making that adorable face with the crinkle in her forehead that she always made whenever he wasn't making any kind of sense she could see. Instead of trying to explain further, he simply handed her the rather informative flyer he'd found in the store. Then he watched her face while she read it.

"Are you telling me someone was taping me at the pub?" she asked incredulously.

"Oh yes, I mean, not just you, all the contestants on all the planets, all across the galaxy. And I saw your stats, Rose, you're way ahead of the others. I mean, you're a shoe-in to win this sector, and then, who knows?"

"I can't believe it," Rose said, sounding honestly shocked, then a wry little smile crossed her face. "Oh, thank god Mum's too far in the past to ever find out about this!"

"What do you mean? This is a great honor; you'd think she'd be proud."

Rose stared at him. "Are you proud?"

The Doctor looked startled. "Me? Course I am! I'm pleased as punch; always knew you were destined for greatness, Rose Tyler! That's why I think we should see this thing through, all the way to the finals."

"Oh my god...you really want this, don't you?" she asked, a new and faintly speculative look crossing her face.

"What? No, I mean, it's entirely up to you, I'm an innocent bystander, completely out of the whole business, really, not even really interested anymore. Maybe we should just go—how about the Frikander System, they've got pies that sing to you as you eat them and their biscuits—!"

"Who'd you vote for then?" Rose demanded.

His eyes shifted away, shuttered, then locked. "I hardly see how that's relevant, Rose," he said loftily.

"You voted for me, didn't you?"

His resistance collapsed. "Only because you really were the best, Rose. Honestly, it was a completely objective decision."

She pursed her lips, still considering him. "You really think I could win? And this has nothing to do with you getting to say you're my…"

He smirked. "Your what?"

She blushed then, but straightened defiantly, "My Doctor."

"Rose, I honestly believe you will win and no, this has nothing to do with me."

She smiled then, a full on, tongue-poking-out, Rose Tyler smile. "All right, let's do it then—long as you're sure you're not going to be upset to have people looking at me."

The Doctor assumed a wounded yet dignified expression. "Rose, don't you know, it doesn't matter who sees the best pair of breasts in the universe, only who gets to touch them."

"S'that so?" she asked pointedly.

"That is so," he said back, grinning playfully back.

Quick as a flash she whipped her top off, gratified to see his eyes widen and his hands reach out for her automatically. "Guess that makes you special then."

The words tripped fervently, almost worshipfully off his tongue, "Oh, yes!"


End file.
